


A Friend From Out of Town

by clgfanfic



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick ends up in trouble, but he gets a helping hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend From Out of Town

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Psychic Investigations Cubed #7 and later in Boss And Bodacious: Special Collection #1 under the pen name Lynn Gill.

**22 February 1985: 0830**

 

Dominique Gierard shifted her binoculars from the seven soldiers she had been watching to search the cloudy blue February sky for the helicopter she heard drumming faintly in the distance.  It took a moment, but she located the slowly approaching Huey, coming in from the northeast – where the war game staging area had been set up.  And something was obviously wrong with the craft, a thin stream of black smoke trailing out behind the olive drab tail.

She looked back at the men, only to find the soldiers watching the craft as well.

"Damn," she breathed into the crisp Sierra air.  _Just what I need, an unexpected friend from out-of-town_ , she thought, using the code for an innocent bystander caught in the middle of an ongoing operation.  _Not that I'm on a case here, either.  How the hell do I end up in the middle of things like this?_   She grinned slightly.  _Just lucky, I guess_.

It had started out as a vacation after a couple of bad weeks in Los Angeles.  But when the locals had showed up to check her out the second day there, Dom knew something illegal was going on.  She had decided to follow the locals, and witnessed several meets with the Army personnel she was currently tracking.  It didn't take long for her to realize they were all part of a drug running chain.  _It might not be as big as a Los Angeles ring, but they're dangerous nonetheless_ , she concluded.

When the Army unit entered the picture, Dom had been surprised, but not shocked.  The three men who were in charge were obviously lifers, and they weren't going to get rich serving Uncle Sam.

 _The question now is whether the guy in the chopper is one of them or not_.

As the chopper drew closer, the unhealthy grind of the tail rotor became clearly audible.  Dom watched as the craft swayed closer to the group of Army personnel, who had just finished exchanging several canisters of drugs for cash.

The tail end of the craft wagged erratically as the pilot ferreted out a place to land.

 _Jesus, I wonder if that pilot saw these guys and thought he could get some help from them_ , the woman thought.  _If so, you're in for a helluva shock, buddy!_

 _I shouldn't get involved in this.  I should've contacted the local authorities and let them handle the situation.  And if it was my mission_ –

_Who the hell am I trying to kid?  I'd stick my nose in this the same way no matter what was going on.  So, let's go get that pilot before the bad guys get to him._

Slipping the miniature field glasses into their case on her belt, she removed the 9mm Browning from the holster on her belt, checked the load, and returned it before she headed out in the direction of the rapidly falling chopper.

 _Hope I get there first, friend_ , she thought.  _You're not going to be too welcome down here.  Funny how folks get so touchy when their drug deals get interrupted_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick Ryder fought with the pedals and the cyclic to keep the Huey under control as he scanned the forest below for the group of soldiers he had caught sight of earlier when they veered off in the pine-covered hills.

Although he didn't mind these war games, Captain Ryder did mind being saddled with faulty equipment, and this particular Huey was ready for the scrap heap as far as he was concerned.

The radio was apparently out, since no one was answering his distress calls, and the tail rotor was ready to come off, and something in the engine assembly sounded like it was tearing itself to shreds.

A flash from a side mirror revealed the jeep entering a clearing among the thick pines and leafless poplars.  Nick immediately switched his search to the closest available spot he could possibly ease the laboring craft into.  He cramped his foot down on the pedal. 

 _At least someone'll know where I am_ , he thought.  _If I'm lucky, I'll hitch a ride out with them…_

The Huey tipped violently to the right, the rotor blades removing several pine boughs from the tips of the trees.  He fought the craft back up.

_But the way my luck's been running, they're the deep recon unit and I'll be stuck out here with them for the next three days._

_If_ _I get this damn thing on the ground_.

A clearing came up suddenly on the right, a small meadow lightly dusted with snow, and Nick smiled.  _I don't think I've ever seen anything so pretty_.

The chopper's engine coughed and sputtered, threatening to choke itself out before he reached the ground, but Nick was able to coax the Huey down.  Once he landed, Nick reached for the radio control.  "This is Blue Three, does anybody read me?"

The radio crackled, but no voice responded.

"This is Blue Three, calling White Six, do you read me?  Can anyone read me?"

A single shot rang out.

Nick flinched, bending forward in his seat as a second shot followed the first, this one breaking through the wind-guard and slicing along the top of his right shoulder.

"What the hell are you shooting at!" he yelled, clamping a hand over the wound to slow the blood flow.

Leaving the radio on and switching on the chopper's homing beacon, Ryder scrambled out of the craft.  This might be a simulated wartime situation, but these guys were taking things far too seriously!

Another shot rang out, removing a small bough from the branch above Nick's head.  He ducked into the cover of the Sierra pines, calling out, "Hey, come on!  I'm one of the good guys, too!"

The answering whir of a shell passing too close to his ear drove Nick farther into the trees.  Another shot burned into his back just above his right hip, sending the pilot headlong into a musty layer of accumulated pine needles, brown popular leaves, and leftover dirty snowfall.

He didn't have time to register the flash of pain before a woman appeared out of nowhere.  Nick wasn't sure which direction she'd come from, or what her intentions were, but he did know she had him dead in the sites of the silenced Browning she held.

"Easy," Nick said, moving his hands away from his body.  He grimaced as he tried to move the injured hip in order to stand.

"That your chopper I saw wag in here?" she asked, moving closer.

He nodded, saying, "Yeah."

She knelt and looked at the bleeding wound.  "Looks like you're in some trouble."

The pilot regarded the gun, listening for the soldiers at the same time.  "Yeah, I noticed that, too.  A rock and a hard place, I think you'd call it."

Dom smiled slightly and lowered the gun.  "Those guys'll finish the job if they catch up with you."

"They're Army–"

"They're involved in running drugs," she finished for him.  "You want to get out of this alive?"

Nick swallowed, a light nausea rising along with a chill.  "I have a couple of friends that'll kill me if I don't," he said softly.

She whistled quietly and a handsome bay gelding trotted out of the pine shadows.  "I'll help you on.  He knows the way home, just let him go.  I'll meet you back there."

Nick's frown wrinkled.  Should he trust her?  Still, after the Orange Grove incident he knew good soldiers could go bad.

He searched her almond-shaped silver-gray eyes.  _Meg Foster eyes_ , he thought. _Weird.  But something feels right and I don't have much of a choice_.

"Come on," she whispered, shoving the Browning back into her holster and helping him to his feet.  "Take your boots off first."

The request made about as much sense as the rest of the unfolding events, so Ryder ground his teeth together and stripped the laces open and removed the black, Army-issued boots, then stepped up to the horse and struggled into the saddle from the wrong side in order to spare his side more damage.  The bay shook his head, but remained still.  It made for an odd sight, the pilot in his olive flight suit, the bay, tossing his head, both anxious to be off.

Dom slipped the horse's bridle off, hooking it on the saddle horn.  Digging into her pocket, she pulled out a key and pressed it into Nick's hand.

"Lock it up when you're in."  With that she gave the gelding a swat across the rump.

Nick looked back as they started off.  If he'd made a mistake, it was too late to do anything about it now.

Dom watched the pair disappear into the trees before she set about erasing the evidence of her and the gelding's arrival.  Then, slipping her moccasins off, she pulled on Nick's boots and laced them up before heading farther into the trees, away from the path taken by Nick and the bay.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The gelding snorted as he trotted up to the corral that extended off a small but traditional red barn.  A second matching horse emerged from an inside paddock to join his companion at the fence.  Nick dismounted in a trembling slide from the blood-dampened saddle, and led the horse inside, leaving him in one of the two large stalls.

An A-frame cabin stood nearby and Nick made his way over to it, careful to stay in the shadows as much as possible.  There didn't appear to be any neighbors close by, but he wanted to be sure he wasn't seen.  He knocked, and when no one answered, he tried the door, finding it locked.  Using the key, he entered, closing the door behind him and locking it.  He paused, leaning against the closed door, exhausted.

A fresh trickle of blood spilled down his leg, finally soaking into the tops of the white socks he wore.  _Great, just great_ , he sighed silently.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom moved steadily through the trees, drawing closer to one of her regular riding trails.  She paused, removing the Swiss Army knife from her pocket.  She took a breath, held it, and inflicted a small cut on her wrist.  Allowing the blood to pool on her skin she waited until a teaspoon's amount was there and then smeared it along the undergrowth.  She returned the knife to her pocket and pulled a bandanna from the back pocket of her jeans and pressed it against the nick to stop the flow.  The small cut closed quickly with no immediately noticeable scar.

Once she reached the trail, she removed Nick's boots, stashing them inside the rotted middle of a lightning-destroyed pine.  The Browning followed the boots.  Dom put her own moccasins on, then dropped down, rolling back and forth along the ground several times.  With that done, she mussed her hair.  Stretching out on the ground, she waited for the sounds of approaching boots.  Then she moaned softly and shifted her legs slightly.

"Hold it right there!" one of the advancing soldiers yelled.

Dom groaned, but stayed where she was until two of the men stepped up and helped her to her feet.  "Who–?  Who are you guys?"

"Put that gun down," a tall, blond captain said to an even larger black sergeant.

"It ain't even safe out in the middle of nowhere these days," she groused, sitting back down on the ground, rubbing the back of her neck.  "You lookin' for that guy?"

The soldiers scanned the trees nervously, two of them moving off to search the area.  The captain, who seemed to be the ranking officer, watched her carefully.

"What happened here?" he asked as she swayed from side to side, still rubbing her neck and shoulder.

"Oh, some guy; Army, I think."

The captain nodded, prompting her to continue.

"Look, I'm up here on a working vacation.  I'm a writer," she smiled at the man and started to stand.  He stuck out a hand, helping pull her to her feet.  "I was out riding – helps me clear my head, you know?  Gets the juices flowing again.  I write westerns, by the way, so it gets me in touch with the feel of the writing.  Anyway, the next thing I know some guy in a green suit jumps out in front of my horse.  Ol' Brady spooked – he's a flighty sort – and the guy grabbed the reins, dragged me out of the saddle, and I think he hit me.  I fell, anyway.  He got on Brady and started off.  I got up and tried to stop him, but the asshole kicked me."

"Are you all right?" the captain asked and she watched him relax slightly.  He'd bought the story.

"Yeah, I'll be okay, but I don't want to lose that horse.  He's a registered–"

"We're looking for the man who took your horse.  We'll be happy to return the animal to you."

"Well, he went that way," she said, pointing west.  One of the soldiers walked over and squatted down, running his fingers lightly along the dirt.  "I hope to hell you find him before that storm hits tonight, or you'll all freeze to death out here."

One of the men trotted up to join them.  "It does look like a horse went through here heading west, Captain.  Little blood, too."

The blond nodded.  "You've been most cooperative, miss…?"

"Alyx Donnaven, but of course I use a pen name for my–"

"Well, Miss Donnaven, can you get back to your cabin on your own, or–"

"Oh, yeah, I'll be fine.  It's not too far."

"Good, good.  You don't need to report this incident, either.  We'll take care of it.  We might have to talk to you again later, though.  You see, we have a war game exercise going on near here and that man was just a little overzealous.  He'll be appropriately disciplined when we catch up to him."

Dom nodded.  "Well, it sounds like you've got it under control," she said, flashing the captain an I-adore-men-in-uniform smile.  "I'm sure you'll take care of it.  Besides, this is supposed to be my vacation!  I don't want to drive all the way back to wherever to report one renegade!  Especially with that storm coming in.  I probably wouldn't make it back, and I really need to get my next three chapters ready for my editor.  It's a historical romance about a young Army officer and an Indian princess who–"

The captain chuckled.  "Don't you worry, we'll find the man.  Where can we return the horse?"

"Oh, you could just turn him loose.  He'd go home, but if you need to bring him by so you can talk to me, I'm in a cabin up in Aspen Canyon, the last one off of the Ponderosa trail."

"Thank you again, Miss Donnaven, you've been a big help," the captain said, flashing her another charming smile.

 _Asshole_ , she thought, smiling back.

"And please be careful getting home.  Come on, men," he told the others, waving them up the trail.

She watched them set off to the west, following the horse's tracks and waited until they were well on their way before she retrieved the Browning and boots and headed out.  North.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick jumped when the door to the cabin swung open and the woman entered.  He had just managed to finish stripping out of the flight suit and blushed as he realized he was standing in front of the fireplace with nothing but his briefs on.

"Hurry up, they'll be here in a few minutes."

"Here?  I thought–"

"You'll be fine."  She walked over and pulled the short leather couch toward the center of the cabin.  Reaching down, she pulled at a recessed handle in the hardwood floor.  "I want you to wait down here."

Nick limped over and peered into the darkness.  "It's a storm and storage cellar," she explained.  "Take the flightsuit.  There's a flashlight down on the table and a first-aid kit on the bookshelf.  Get some pressure on that wound until I can get to it.  There are a couple of blankets down there on the bed, too.  Wrap up."

Shaking his head slightly, Nick allowed her to take his arm and walk him into the murky darkness.  She had him sit on a edge of a cot, then handed him a flashlight.  The cellar went to pitch black when she left and closed the door.  He fought back a surge of panic as the couch scratched across the wooden floor above him.  He was trapped.  He switched the light on.

Finishing with the couch, Dom left the cabin, locking the door behind her.  She spotted the trail of blood drops easily and quickly erased their path to the door.

Going to the stable, she took the gelding out of the stall and bridled him.  Leading the horse out into the clearing between the cabin and the barn she turned him loose and waited.  When she heard the first faint echoes of the men she began talking to the horse, occasionally stamping her foot.  The gelding tossed his head and paced nervously around the space.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The captain held up his hand, stopping the men who trailed out behind him.  Silently he watched the woman as she tried to calm the horse that paced around the open space near her cabin.  The bay stopped, his ears pricked forward, listening to her soft cooing, but when she reached forward to try and catch hold of the trailing reins, the animal tossed his head and lunged away.

Finally she feigned to the left, then moved right, managing to snare one of the reins.  The horse reared and she shifted to avoid the flailing hooves.

"I see he came home on his own," the captain said, stepping out of the trees with his men once she had the animal under control.

"Yeah, Brady must've dumped that guy someplace.  I didn't think he could ride!" she hooted.  "He was slippin' and sliddin' all over the seat, and–"

"You haven't seen him, then?"

"Nope," she said.  "I just got back here myself.  I found Brady out here.  Poor baby, that guy must have scared ya, huh?" she patted the animal's neck and the bay tossed his head.  "Let me put him in the barn, okay?  I'll have to check him over later.  I'll fix you and your men a pot of coffee if you'd like."

"No, thank you, but that won't be necessary," the captain said.  "Go ahead, then we'll make sure you get inside safely."

"That guy the cowboy who was flyin' around here?"

"Why do you ask?" the officer asked, suspicion rising in his eyes.

 _Oh, great, you're a paranoid_ , she thought.  "Well, let me tell you, horses hate helicopters.  I heard one earlier and came out to take a look.  I saw it spittin' out smoke. I tell ya, I thought it was gonna crash right here!  Hey, maybe he did and it scrambled his brains.  I've heard that can happen.  There was a piece in the _Inquirer_ about this guy who–"

"It's a possibility.  In any case, you should make sure you keep your doors locked.  I'm sure we'll have him soon."

"I'm sure you will.  I appreciate it, too."

"Now, if you'd open the cabin up, we'll check inside before we leave."

"Hey, good idea," Dom said, first taking the gelding into the barn and returning him to the stall.  Walking over to the door, she fished the key she had taken back from Nick out of her jean pocket and handed it to the man.  "Maybe you ought to do it," she said, a quaver of fear passing through her voice.  "I mean, just in case he's in there, waiting to pull an ambush on me."

The captain suppressed a smile, but accepted the key.  Opening the door, the men entered, their guns at the ready.  Dom remained outside, her shoulder pressed against the doorframe, too afraid to enter, but curious enough to want to watch.

It only took then a few moments to check the single room that served as living room, kitchen and bedroom.  One man disappeared into the only other room, a small bathroom, while another used the barrel of his M-16 to nose through her clothes closet.

They exited.  "It's safe," the captain said, motioning that she could go in.

"Thank you, so much," she gushed.  "And good luck.  I hope you find that guy before that storm hits."

Once inside Dom shut the door and turned the deadbolt.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"You trust her?" the black sergeant asked as he walked next to the tall blond captain.   

"Yeah, Davis, you heard her.  She's just a yokel-writer – won't be any trouble for us."

"I hope you're right, sir."

"You worry too much, Davis."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom watched until she was sure they were gone, then left the cabin, fading into the trees and following them silently, hiding among the thick pines.  The black sergeant was concerned.  She'd have to watch him if they came back.  He could sense something was wrong with her act.

When she was sure the soldiers were heading back toward the downed chopper, Dom turned back to the cabin.  The weather was finally starting to take the turn the radio had been predicting and a light snowfall accompanied her most of the way back.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Despite the blankets Nick was cold.  He rubbed the sweat off his forehead with the back of a quaking hand.  _Cold but I'm sweating.  Great.  I must be getting shocky_.

He thought about the woman.  Where was she?  The soldiers had left at least forty minutes ago.  He had tried to push the door open, but the couch was too heavy.  _Damn it!  Where are you?_

The dulled sound of the cabin door opening echoed through the cellar.  There were no other sounds until the couch scratched along the floor and the door above him opened.

"Hi," she said, joining him.

"It's about time."

"I wanted to make sure they didn't leave anyone behind to watch the place.  I also wanted to see where they were going."

"Which was?" Ryder asked, moving slowly out of the cellar with her help and limping over to stand near the small snapping pine fire.  He pulled the blanket draped over his shoulder tighter and fought against the vertigo that make the room contort like an image in a fun house mirror.

"Back to your chopper."  Dom replaced the couch and then joined him at the hearth.  Stooping down to maneuver more logs onto the fire, she looked up at the pilot. "What're you guys doing up here in the Sierras?"

"War games.  We do it every year."

"You know these guys?"

Nick shook his head no.  "I was flying practice sorties to the top of Thompson Peak.  I had engine trouble, but I saw those guys pull off the main fire road earlier.  I thought they were a recon unit."

Dom nodded.  She walked over to pull off the blanket draped over the leather couch, spreading it out in front of the fireplace.  "Here, lay down here so I can take a look at that."

He did as instructed.

Her inspection was quick and painless.  "You've got a bullet in there someplace.  Didn't hit the bone, or any major vein or artery that I can see, and it doesn't look like it perforated an intestine, although it might have nicked one.  You have the luck of the gods, I guess."

"It sure doesn't feel like it."

"I'll bet not," she said with genuine sympathy.

 _She's been shot herself_ , Nick concluded silently.  _I hope the hell she knows what she's doing.  I gotta get out of here, get a hold of General Safford, call Cody._

"Gotta get help," he slurred.

"You aren't going to be able to leave," Dom said as she stood and walked over to an oak cabinet that filled half of one wall and removed a medical kit.  "There's a storm on the way, which should help us.  I'll clean the wound up the best I can, but we'll have to wait that storm out.  If we try to leave and get caught in it, we'll freeze to death."

"Great," Nick mumbled, exhaustion swelling up to pull him into unconsciousness.

"I'm going to get something on the stove.  You think you could drink some water?"

Nick shifted on the twin-sized bed and shook his head.  "I don't think I could keep it down."

Although his back was still throbbing, the intense pain of the morning was gone.  He watched her move over to the two-burner wood stove.  Something about the woman was compelling, but the pilot was unable to decide what it was exactly.

She was tall, about five foot ten, and athletically built.  _Almost like a dancer or a gymnast_ , he thought.  _Graceful, cat-like_.  He chuckled silently.  _Cody'd love that.  What the hell does it mean anyway?_

 _That she moves like running water_ , he answered himself.  _All flow, silent… silent?  She doesn't make any noise.  Weird_.

And she was tanned, her skin an attractive copper-bronze that thousands of women lying on the Southern California beaches he was so familiar with only dreamed about.  The long black hair, just brushing along her hips, was thick and wavy, but Nick knew if he touched it, he'd find it baby fine.

She was a bundle of contradictions, beautiful one moment, only cute the next, exotic and then girl-next-door, feminine and yet strong, calm, but alert.

"What's your name?" he said softly to himself.

"Call me Dom."

He jumped at the reply, sure that she couldn't have overheard him from the bed. She grinned over her shoulder at him and Nick found himself grinning back.

" _Who_ are you?"

"Someone who thought she was going to get a vacation."

 _And that's all I'm going to get, too_ , Nick knew.  He shifted to get a better view and continued his appraisal.

He guessed her age to be between twenty-three and thirty-three, but was unable to narrow it down from there.  But it was her eyes that disconcerted him the most.  He'd never seen any so pale, so truly silver-grey.  Her high cheekbones gave her a Native American look, but the almond shape of her eyes reminded him of the French-Vietnamese he had met during the war.  But she was an Anglo, he thought.  _An Anglo with a well-mixed family tree_ , he concluded.

 _Confident, relaxed, alert… she might be a cop_.

"I want you to try and drink a little water," she told him, "If you can keep it down I want you to try and drink some tea."

She carried the water over, then returned to the stove for two cups of tea.

Balancing her bowl of stew on a towel hanging across her forearm, she rejoined him, taking a seat on the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace.

"Here you go," she said, handing the cup over.

"How did you know those guys were dirty?" he asked, hoping she didn't mind a direct approach.  Besides, he needed some conversation to take his mind off the flips the water was causing in his stomach.

"I've been up here about two and a half weeks.  When the war games started, I took the field glasses out and watched a little to see what was up.  Damned if I didn't end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I saw that squad meeting with a couple of locals about a week ago.  They exchanged a few containers.  I followed the locals.

"The mountains around here are honeycombed with old mine shafts.  Most of them were originally dug during the Gold Rush.  These guys are using them for storage. They've got a fortune of drugs stored in the hills just waiting to be moved out."

"Jesus," Nick breathed.  "We started this exercise in Arizona, in the desert.  They could've picked up the drugs there, moved it here–"

"And from here to Sacramento, or north to San Francisco or wherever else," she finished for him.

"No one would interfere with the war games since we do it every year."  He sat the cup aside, unable to force any more than a few mouthfuls down.

"A perfect pipeline, provided you don't have stray pilots dropping in on you."

"You're in a lot of danger."

"We both are.  When they can't find you they'll end up back here sooner or later. And they won't be able to leave either one of us alive."

"You seem pretty calm about that.  You a cop?"

Dom smiled.  "No.  But we'll have a little time.  Did you hear about the storm that's going to hit tonight?"

Nick nodded.

"They'll have to pull out, and it'll be at least a day before they can get back up here.  We should have a plan figured out by then."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

She watched him sleep.  Captain Ryder was not in good shape.  She knew there was an internal infection starting, but she didn't have the equipment to do anything about it.  And there was no way to move the man until the blizzard currently howling outside passed.  Provided the storm didn't have a mind of its own.

She sighed.  Captain Sorrel and his men would probably head back to a secondary camp to wait the storm out.  They would be able to move out before the rest of the units.  And even if she did contact the officer in charge of the exercises, there was no way to know if he was involved.

No, the best thing for her to do right now was wait.

Ryder gasped in his sleep, curling into a tighter ball.

"Nick?" she said, moving over to sit on the edge of the bed.  He continued to toss restlessly, fighting the fever. 

"Captain."

Nick opened his eyes, his head throbbing.  Unable to focus, he sucked in a breath between clenched teeth.

"Here, drink this."  Dom helped him onto his back and held a cup to his lips and he willingly swallowed the cool liquid.  "Is there someone you can trust in your unit?"

Nick thought, forcing the disorientation back as much as he could.  "Don't know.  Don't know who's dirty; could be anyone.  Trust Cody 'n' Murray."

"Who?"

"M' partners."

"Your partners?"

"We're detectives.  _Riptide…_ King Harbor.  Home…"  He trailed off, slipping back to sleep.

She sat the cup aside and checked his pulse.  It was fast, but still relatively strong.  At least she'd been able to stop the worst of the shock, but he was still slipping faster than she had hoped.  One way or another, she needed to get him out as fast as she could.

Rising, Dom went over to the rough-hewn coffee table and opened the cabinet beneath it, removing a portable computer, modem and phone, setting them out across the surface.  She plugged the pieces together and turned on the computer.

After typing in a series of complicated entry codes, she waited for KARL to respond.

 

> Hello, Dom.  How can I help you?

 

Connect to Army records.

 

> Connected.

 

Locate file for Captain Nick Ryder.

 

> There are three Nick Ryder's in Army personnel records.  More data is required for exact identification.

 

Assigned to California Army Guard or Reserve.

> Located.

Civilian occupation?

> Private detective for the Riptide Detective Agency, Pier 56, Slip 7, King Harbor, Redondo, CA, (213) 555-2121.

 

Reference file for "Cody" and/or "Murray."

> Cody and Murray located.

 

Details.

 

> Co-partners in Riptide Detective Agency.  Cody Allen, U.S. Army Lieutenant, # AR12675432.  Murray Bozinsky, U.S. Army Colonel, retired # WS19784327.

 

Run full profiles on Ryder, Nick; Allen, Cody; and Bozinsky, Murray.

 

> Working…

 

She left KARL to his work and returned to the twin bed to check on her patient, then headed to the couch for a nap.  A soft beeping from the computer roused her an hour later.

Returning to the coffee table, she scanned the files that waited for her on the screen.  Ryder and Allen's files were smaller in comparison to Bozinsky's, but no less interesting in their own right.  And the three men had been involved in several interesting cases over the last couple of years.  They also had good service records.

She smiled when she noticed that they had intersected briefly with she, Riggs, and the rest of Cobra Company briefly in 1969.

 _I wonder what Goldman and Anderson are up to these days_ , she wondered.  _Well, in any case, Ryder and Allen are good men_ , she decided.  _I have to get him out of this alive_.

Dom contemplated Bozinsky's file.  He was obviously a genius with computers.  She'd have to place a few more watchdogs around the pathways to KARL's core databases before she contacted them.  It might be fun to match wits with Dr. Bozinsky, but not right now.

Dom smiled.  She'd be able to reach the other two detectives using Murray's extensive covert tapping of various "closed" systems.

 _Callihan would love to have someone like Murray working for him_ , she thought as she began to type.

 

Karl.

 

> Yes, Dom?

 

Tap phone 213-555-2121, notify me when the modem line is in use.  Prepare for intercept.

 

> Working…

 

She was able to get coffee made before the computer beeped, indicating that the tap had been accomplished.

 

> Connected.  Line is already in use.  Ready to intercept.

 

Show me current screen.

 

A series of accounts receivable and payable come up on her screen.  _Doing the books, huh, Murray?_

 

Karl, blank the screen, but do not dump information.

 

> Screen blanked.

 

"Hey!" Murray yelped as his carefully prepared billing computations disappearing from his computer terminal.

Cody, sitting in the saloon, rose and started down to join him.

The blond was bored.  With Nick was away on a two week war game exercise, they wouldn't have any cases for the same amount of time.  Normally he could find plenty around the boat to keep him occupied, but there had been a lag of business the month before as well, and the three men had spent the time engaged in completing repairs to the _Riptide_.

When a severe winter storm alert was announced, Cody wondered if the exercises would be called off.  When the storm that the newscasters kept talking about finally hit it was going to be bad.  It was already being heralded as the worst winter storm to hit California in over fifty years.  Last night he and Murray had checked the _Mimi_ and the _Ebbtide_ , securing them against the high winds that pushed the storm closer to the coast.

_Boy, Nick'll be upset if he's grounded for the entire week.  Especially if they put him on ground detail in the snow!_

"Something wrong, Murray?" he asked when he reached the stateroom.

"I don't know," the thin man replied, rapidly pecking at keys in an effort to retrieve the missing data.  "I seem to have lost the file I was working on…  I think.  I mean, there's no reason why I should, but–"

"Oh," Cody replied, uninterested.  Computers were Murray's domain, and the blond was more than happy to leave them there.  He turned to go.

"What the–?  Cody, here, look at this."

Stepping around the Roboz so he could see the screen, Cody felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle.  "Cody?  Murray?"  sat in the center of the blank screen, blinking silently on and off.

"You working on something new, Murray?"

"No.  Someone broke into my computer," he said softly.  He reached out and poked the "Y" key.  "They broke into _my_ computer."

"Good," the screen blinked back.

"Who are you?" Murray typed.

Cody smiled at the "huff" the thin man could put into three words.

The screen flashed, then went blank for a moment, finally reappearing with two columns of conversation listed alternately down the two halves of the screen.

 

Cody?  Murray?

Yes.

Good.

Who are you?

Dom.  It's about Nick.

Where are you?

Murray, permission to secure

this line.

Yes, go ahead.

 

"What's going on?" Cody asked, leaning over Murray's shoulder while the screen warped and contorted.

"Dom, whoever that is, is securing the connection between our two computers so on one else can tap into the conversation.  It's essentially a construction of a tight mathematical barrier between the pathway we're using and the outside.  Whoever this is knows computers," he said, a touch of awe in his voice.  "And they must have access to a very powerful machine somewhere in order to do this – better than a Ram 1660 system."

"Can you trace it?"

"No.  I can try later, but not while Dom has control of my machine.  This is very high-tech stuff, Cody.  I haven't seen any thing like this since I was working for the Army in Baltimore."

Cody shivered slightly.  If it took War Department computers or better…  "Nick's in trouble.  I wonder what he's gotten himself into."

"I think we're about to find out."

 

Still there, Murray?

Still here.

I need your help.

What do you want?

Come to Senora, CA.  You

have portable link?

Yes.

Bring it.  I'll contact you

1000, tomorrow.

Wait, is this about Nick?

 

The screen blinked and the file Murray had been working on earlier returned. "The link's gone."

Cody straightened and sighed.  "Get packed.  If we leave now we should get up there by tonight.  I just hope we can outrun that storm."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**23 February 1985: 1030**

 

"Good morning," Dom said softly.

Nick groaned, and let his eyelids fall closed again.  "Cold," he muttered, his teeth chattering to punctuate the comment.

"We had a three foot snowfall last night.  There'll be another couple feet by this afternoon.  You think you can drink some tea?  That storm's stronger than the weather guys first thought.  The coast is getting hit by high winds and sleet."

"Tea?" Nick mumbled, trying to keep up with the information. "How 'bout coffee?"

"Tea."

He nodded.  Eyes closed, he listened as she prepared the drink.  "You got a phone?"

"Of sorts, but a regular call wouldn't be secure."

He grunted.  _I didn't even think about that.  Just what I need to do, call Cody and Boz and get them involved.  Real smart, Ryder.  There's a chance those guys could be monitoring the lines.  Don't want 'em to worry.  I'll be listed missing…_

"Here."

He opened his eyes and sat up to take the steaming cup.  The amber-colored tea had a sweet tang that appealed to him.  Dom was staring at him.  "What?"

"Just getting a feel for your color."  She sat down and took his free hand, feeling for a pulse.

"You a nurse?"

"EMT."

"Oh."

"Your pulse is stronger, but the fever's still climbing.  We're not to the worst of it yet.  I'll get a poultice on that today to try and draw some of the infection out."

"Anything happening?"

"Nothing.  Those guys are either stranded at a field operations camp, or they made it back to your base.  If they didn't make it to a camp our worries are over, because they're popsicles by now."

Nick grinned.  He knew they would be too smart to get caught out in the storm.  And there was a damn good chance the games wouldn't be called off, despite the weather.  It was too good an opportunity to try out the cold weather gear and tactics.  Once the worst of it was over they'd be able to get the equipment out and…  "How long this goin' to last?"

"Last radio report said until this afternoon."

"They won't move at night.  Too dangerous."

"I figure we have to be out of here by tomorrow noon.  Think you're up for it?"

He nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The weather slowed them down, the two detectives reaching Sonora almost twenty-four hours from the time they were contacted by Dom.  They headed for the first hotel they could find and took a room.  After carrying in their gear, Cody turned up the heat and took a shower while Murray connected the Roboz and the portable computer to the machines back on the _Riptide_ via the phone lines.

"Anything?" the blond as he exited the bathroom in a swirl of steam.

"Nothing.  I'm going to get into the Army's computers and see if I can find out what Nick was doing yesterday."

"Good idea," Cody said, busying himself with making coffee in the small Mr. Coffee machine provided.

"With the storm I don't know if I'll be able to…"  The detective trailed off.  "I got it!"

"Great," Cody said, dropping into one of the two chairs provided in the room.  It had been a long drive.

"Cody?"

"Yeah?"  He opened his eyes.  Murray was scared.

"The computer has Nick listed as 'missing.'"

He pushed out of the chair.  "Missing?"

"He left the field at 0630, on the twenty-second and has failed to report in.  Another unit, a ground recon group, also reported a chopper crash about 1000 hours the same day."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**24 February 1985: 0830**

 

Stamping off the snow that clung to their boots and pant legs, the two detectives entered the warm interior of the war game exercise headquarters.

A young sergeant looked up from where she had been sorting through a stack of loose papers.  "May I help you?" she asked.

"We were referred to Colonel Dellson by the press officer, Lieutenant Paulson," Cody explained.

"Just a moment," the woman said, reaching for the phone.  Turning in her chair, she spoke softly for a moment, then swiveled back to face the detectives, and hung up.  "Colonel Dellson can see you now.  Through that door, gentlemen," she instructed, nodding to the door to the left of her desk.

"Thank you," Murray said as they passed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dellson looked up from a topological map that was spread across his desk.  "Gentlemen, what can I do for you?  If you're reporters, the press officer–"

"No, sir," Cody said, automatically assuming an at-ease position in front of the man's desk.  "We're here to see Captain Nick Ryder.  He's one of your chopper pilots."

Dellson looked away and cleared his throat.  "In regards to what?" he asked.

Murray cleared his throat and said, "Nick Ryder is a friend of ours, Colonel, and yesterday we–"

"We had to put our ski trip on hold with the storm," Cody interrupted.  "And we thought we'd see if Nick was available for a cup of coffee before we try to get out of here behind the snowplows before the second front hits this afternoon.  The Information Officer referred us to you when we asked about Nick."

Dellson nodded, glancing out the window at the heavy snowfall.  "It might be too late to leave, I'm afraid.  It's already snowing again across all the higher elevations and dropping rapidly.  Even the plows are stuck right now."

"Thank you," Cody said.  "But about Captain Ryder–"

"Gentlemen, let me be frank with you.  The original storm yesterday evening blew in here about three hours before we expected it.  There were several units caught out in it, unprepared.  We still have three missing–"

"You mean Nick's out there somewhere?" Murray interrupted.

Dellson rose and walked over to a coffee machine.  He filled three Styrofoam cups and carried his back to the desk.  "Fix them as you'd like," he said nodding at the cups.  "Yes, I'm afraid Captain Ryder is one of the missing."

Cody glanced over his shoulder as he stirred the too-dark liquid with a plastic straw.  "There's more, isn't there, Colonel."

"Yesterday morning about 0800 we received a garbled message from a chopper. The one Captain Ryder was flying.  The static was so thick the radio operations couldn't understand the message.  Later, Captain Sorrel, one of my recon team leaders, reported that he and his men witnessed a chopper crash.  They're one of the three missing units who were caught by the storm.  They had started to look for the wreckage.  I'm hoping they were able to pull back to a pickup point while the jeeps were still running and this is a communication problem.  They weren't carrying any cold weather gear."

"You're telling us that Nick crashed?" Cody asked calmly.

"At the moment we are assuming that it was his chopper that Captain Sorrel reported, since all the other pilots and craft are accounted for.  I'm sorry."  He watched the shock and fear pass over the two men's faces.  "Once this second front passes, we'll send a team out to the site Captain Sorrel reported.  At this point we just don't know.  With the weather, that's the best I can do."

"But if Nick's on the ground, and hurt…"  Murray trailed off, the expressions on the other men's faces telling him they understood the situation as well as he.

"I suggest you get a room in one of the local hotels and wait the storm out.  Once the snow stops I'll have men out there looking."

"Thank you, sir," Cody said.

"I wish it could be more.  I haven't lost a single man in five years of heading these exercises and I don't want to break the streak."

"Believe me, sir.  We hope you don't either," Cody said.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom stretched and tossed the covers back.  Climbing off the couch, she pulled on another sweatshirt and padded silently to the fireplace, adding fresh logs to revive the blaze.

She shook her head.  The last forty-eight hours had been more nerve-racking than she was willing to admit.  _I found a wounded pilot, avoided the bad guys, got snowed in…  Wonder what'll happen today.  Hopefully Cody and Murray have made it to Sonora by now_.

Rubbing her hands together, she walked to the stove, stirred the fire, added wood and set a pot of coffee on to boil.  KARL was her next stop, and Dom smiled at the message light that was blinking.  _Must be Callihan_ , she thought.  She had sent him a message, explaining the situation and the fact that she might have to kill seven men, all belonging to the United States Army.

_I bet he just loved that.  Not to mention me bringing in a couple of civilians._

 

Morning, Karl.

 

> Good morning, Dom.  There is a message from Callihan.

 

Display.

 

> Dom, what's happened to the vacation?  Let the locals do their jobs for a change.  And, remember, the more out of town guests you invite, the bigger the mess you'll probably have to clean up.  If it looks serious, I can have local contacts to you in ten hours.  Let me know.  Again I type a worthless object.  Callihan.

 

"You're such a pessimist sometimes, Callihan," she said softly.  She knew her control would be worried.  After all, she was his best agent, and he wouldn't want her killed over nothing.  _Not that I consider Army personnel running drugs nothing_.

She spent the next two hours with KARL, first talking to Callihan and arranging a medical pickup in Truckee.  Next she contacted Dr. Chambers in Washington.

"Guess it's time to see if the cavalry's arrived," she said softly, after checking her watch.  It was already 10:23 a.m.

 

Karl.

 

> Yes, Dom?

 

Reinstate secured line to Murray Bozinsky.

 

> Connecting… Secure line connection completed.

 

Is he on line?

 

> Yes.

 

Interrupt.

 

> Connected.  Enter message.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Cody, here it is!" Murray whispered excitedly.

"Murray, why're you whispering?"

The thin detective looked up at his partner.  "Uh, I don't really–"

"Look," Cody said, nodding at the screen and Bozinsky let the conversation die away.

 

Murray?  Cody?

                                                                                                   We're in Sonora.

Good.  Sit tight.

                                                                                                   Where are you?

In a cabin.  Snowbound.

                                                                                                    What about Nick?

He's here.

                                                                                                    Did he crash?

No.  Army tried to kill him.

Serious but not critical.

 

The two men exchanged worried looks.  "Great," Cody said.  "And we walked right in and told the Army we're here."

 

                                                                                         What can we do?

Watch the Army and your

backs. Capt. Sorrel, Sgt.'s

Davis and Abrams good place

to start.

                                                                                         Can you leave?

No, not yet.

                                                                                         Why?

Nick's too weak.  Second

front on the way.

                                                                                         What if you're found?

Trouble.  I'll contact you

tonight.

 

The connection was terminated and the two detectives watched the screen go blank. 

"I guess we wait, huh?" Murray asked.

Cody simply nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick was growing steadily worse.  Dom knew she had to make a decision soon.  The second front had hit early in the afternoon, and it was blowing snow to the point of creating a whiteout.  Thanks to KARL's link to the Army computers, she knew that Sorrel and his men had reported in at a field station; that one of the seven was suffering from frostbite; and that the station was three hours away.  The chopper was an hour and a half away, between Sorrel and the cabin.

There was no way Nick could ride out, even if she could use the horses, but with the snow as deep as it was, she was doubtful the animals would be able to make a go of it.  There was a snow mobile in the barn.  That was her way out, but to where?

Sonora was too far away, and too obvious.  The chopper was out of commission, but it had a radio, provided Sorrel hadn't destroyed it.  The closest field station was the one where Sorrel and his men were waiting.  The only other community was Colfax, and there was a damn good chance that that was home to the local drug connection.  With a population of only ninety-five it was unlikely they'd have the kind of medical facilities Nick needed, anyway.

Dom paced in front of the fireplace.  The storm would keep everyone where they were until the morning, but then, if Sorrel was smart, he'd be headed this way.  She'd have to move Nick by then.

She stopped when he groaned.  Walking to the bed, she picked up the washcloth, soaked it with water, wrung it out and wiped the sweat off his face.

"Good afternoon," she said.

"How's weather?" he slurred.

"Holding on snow.  Radio says we're beating all records since the 1800s."

Nick frowned.

"We'll be fine.  Stuck here a little longer, but we're leaving in the morning."

"'S not that."

"What?"

"Cody and Murray.  Army must 'a called… missing… they'll worry…if I…"  He trailed off, but the concern was clear.

Dom hesitated, unsure if she should tell him she had already involved them.  Still, she owed him honesty.  "They're already in Sonora."

"What?  They'll be targets."  He tossed his head, fighting to try and sit up, but the crippling fire in his side pinned him to the bed.

"They'll be fine.  I needed their eyes on the Army."

Nick searched her face.  There was a coldness to the woman, a get-the-job-done attitude that wasn't tempered by the love he felt for the two men.  "How'd ya contact them?" he panted.

"Secure computer patch."

"Can I talk to them?"

She watched him fight the pain down.  "You tell me, I'll type."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody was in the middle of counting the boards that made up the ceiling for the third time that hour when the portable computer beeped.  After the contact with Dom earlier in the morning, the two men had spent the day at the Army field headquarters along with a few family members of other men who were listed as missing. 

The one thing he noticed was the listing for Sorrel, Abrams, or Davis.  "Missing," had been crossed off and "At field station Delta," written in its place.

"Cody?" Murray called.

"Yeah?"

"It's Dom, Nick wants to talk to us."

He bounded off the bed and joined Murray.

 

Cody?  Murray?

                                                                                  Yes?

Nick wants to talk to you.

Not long.  He's weak.

                                                                                  Nick?

Hi guys.

                                                                                  How are you doing?

Not so hot.  Watch your

butts. We have another

Orange Grove here.

Everything is still on

hold here with storm.

Dom says we're leaving in

the morning.

Yes.  Need you to stay by

computer so I can arrange

a pick up.

                                                                                   Can he wait that long?

Have to.  We can't go until

snow stops.  Sorrel et al

are only 3 hr away.

                                                                                   Where are you going?

I'll contact you in the

morning, early.  Do not

leave computer.

                                                                                   We won't.  Hang in there, buddy.

I will.  Dom will take

care of me.  Don't forget

you guys mean a hell of a

lot to me.

                                                                                    We know. Is Dom like Jody?

No.  Gloria.  But leave

the bags at home, boys.

 

"That's Nick," Cody said, staring at the computer screen.  The comment left him feeling better about the woman who held his partner's life in her hands.  Still, it sounded like Nick was saying goodbye, and that scared him.  "He's not as good as they make it sound."

"I know," Murray said softly.

"How?"

"I set up a program to try and trace other connections she might make."

"And?"

"The only one I could decode was a link to a Washington D.C. hospital for a consultation with a doctor."

"What's wrong with him?"

"I couldn't sort it all out, but I was able to decode the hospital and the phrase, 'becoming critical.'"

Cody paced the small room.  "But that can mean anything," he argued half-heatedly.

"Yeah," Murray agreed, sounding as unconvinced as Cody himself.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom shook her head.  She knew that was a private code between the men, and wondered what it meant.  If they got out of this alive, maybe she'd ask.

"Good partners," she said.

Nick closed his eyes.  "The best."

From time to time she missed working in a group.  As a part of Cobra Company, she had survived Vietnam because of the teamwork and leadership of General Milton Haddison.  After that she was shuffled through several of the most covert agencies operating for the United States government.  There were other small groups, and a few partners, but mostly a lot of time on her own.

"You a cop?" Nick whispered.

She shook her head.

"A fed?"

"Shh," she told him.  "Get some sleep.  We're out of here in ten hours.  I have to get this show packed up for the road."

 _She's a spook of some sort_ , he concluded, but was too tired to pursue it further.  The pilot closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**25 February 1985: 0530**

 

Dom slept, rising early to spend the next several hours preparing for their escape.  The snow had finally stopped falling and was starting to settle.  Sorrel, depending on the equipment available to him at the field station, would be two to three hours behind them.

She checked the litter that she had rigged onto the snowmobile.  It should hold the injured pilot with a minimum amount of jostling.  With luck she would be able to get Nick to Colfax and meet Cody and Murray there.  From there they would head north to Truckee and a medical chopper that could fly them to Reno for emergency treatment.

She would get Nick to Colfax, his partners would get them to Truckee, and Callihan would make sure that the chopper was there waiting.  _And Sorrel will be right behind us all the way_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Cody, it's Dom," Murray announced.

The blond detective checked the load on the .45, then walked over to read the screen from behind the computer expert.

 

Guys?

                                                                                        We're here.

Time to move.

                                                                                        Are roads open?

Some.

                                                                                        Get to Colfax and wait for me.

When should we expect you?

                                                                                        Four hours.  Sorrel might be close behind.  Be careful.

How's Nick?

                                                                                        Hanging in there.  Don't be late.  But if we're late, just wait.

Will do.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Nick?" she shook his shoulder and felt the heat rising off of the dry skin.  "Come on, Captain, it's time to rock and roll."

Nick forced his eyes open.  Too weak to be of much help, he allowed Dom to maneuver him into a seated position and then stood up, leaning heavily on her.

"That's fine.  Now we have to take a little walk."  She guided him to the door and across the shoveled path to the barn.

Leaning heavily on the woman, Nick panted hoarsely, sending a stream of white puffs into the morning air like a laboring train.

The horses stirred restlessly in their stalls when the pair entered the barn, Dom struggling to keep the pilot on his feet long enough to reach the snowmobile and waiting travois attached to the vehicle.

Helping him onto the drag, she waited for a round of chills to pass before she uncurled the man and settled him in.

"Nick, I want you to listen to me," she said, zipping the first sleeping bag up to cocoon the injured man. "This trip is going to take about an hour and a half.  The sleeping bags should keep you protected.  If the bouncing gets to be too much, let me know, and I'll try and find an alternate route.

"Trust you," he said through chattering teeth.

Reaching out, she felt his forehead.  The fever was still high.  "Glad to hear it," she said softly.  "This is going to be a little rough, I'm afraid, but I'm guessing that Sorrel is already on the move.  Cody and Murray are going to meet us."

"Cody?" Nick asked, looking around the barn as best he could.

"He'll be in Colfax.  Ever been there?  Nice little community – full of drug runners.  Makes for a hell of a Saturday night.  From there we'll go to Truckee."

"Cody," Nick murmured, slipping into unconsciousness.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom locked the cabin.  Everything that might incriminate her as something more than a writer was carefully stored in the cabinets in the cellar.  Without the right keys and very good eyes, the door leading to them would be missed.  All signs of Nick were erased as well.

Back in the barn, she checked over the materials she was taking.  Food, water, medical kit, cold weather survival kit – just in case – and her weapons.  The horses would have to stay behind.  That didn't make her happy, but Dom doubted the men would hurt them.

They hadn't seen the snowmobile earlier, but once they arrived she knew it would leave an easy trail for them to follow.  Still, there was no other choice, and with any luck, she and Nick should reach Cody and Murray far enough ahead of the soldiers to ensure their escape to Truckee and the waiting medical chopper.

Dom grinned ruefully.  _But nothing ever goes that smoothly except in the movies_ , she thought.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody stared out the frosted window of the Jimmy and waited.

Murray, huddled in the passenger seat, chaffed his mitten-covered hands along his jacket-padded arms and wondered how it could be that he was still cold.  "Cody?" the thin detective finally said after several hours of silence.

"Hmm?  Yeah, Boz?" the blond responded, still looking out the window.

"I'm scared."

Cody shifted in the seat to look at his friend.  "Me, too, Murray."

"She's late."

"I know."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 _Damn it!_ Dom thought.  _You idiots must have started moving last night!_

 _Yeah, and who's the idiot, sweetheart?_ she questioned herself sarcastically, readying the silenced Browning for use.  Nick was awake at least, and he knew what was going on.

She crouched down next to him and handed him her other Browning.  "Think you can use this if you have to?"

He looked into her gray eyes, filled at the moment with annoyance and concentration.  "Count on it."

"I will be," she said, smiling briefly.  "I'm going to circle around them."  She pulled a clip out of her jacket pocket.  "Here's a spare."

Nick nodded, blinking the sweat out of his eyes at the same time as he felt it start to freeze in his hair.  She patted his shoulder and faded into the trees, the gray clothes she wore blending into the shadows.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"How the hell did she know we were here?" Sorrel questioned his sergeant hotly.

"I don't know, sir, but she's holed up in a way so we'll have to expose ourselves to go in," Davis replied.

"No, we won't," the captain growled.  "She'll have to come out if she wants to get the chopper jock out of here before he's dead."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom leaned lightly against the pine and listened to the exchange.  Four of the men were there, two were missing from the group.  She would start with them.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody shrugged his shoulders to chase the cold off the back of his neck, but it did little good.  He glanced at Murray, who was obviously miserable in the cold cab of the Jimmy.  He turned the engine on and let the heater run to chase the cold away for a little while.

Dom and Nick were almost two hours late.  He knew they must have run into trouble, but there was nothing he could do without knowing what direction they should be coming from.  The feeling of helplessness kindled a fire in the pit of his stomach, and he coaxed it into a larger blaze with anger.

"Cody, look, over there," Murray said, pointing a trembling, mitten-covered finger to the west.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom found the first man nestled down along a fisher in a large rock formation.  He was watching the area where she had left Nick.  She watched him at the end of her sight.  He was young, no more than twenty-three, but she knew he had orders to kill her and Nick.  She squeezed.

"That's one," she whispered into the cold.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick lay, clutching the Browning and trying to keep his ragged breathing as quiet as possible.  Unable to estimate how long Dom had been gone, the pilot concentrated on remaining awake.  Whispering the preflight checklist for the _Mimi_ seemed to do the trick.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom stepped up behind the second guard and fired.  "That's two."

As she turned to head back toward the remaining five men, she heard the commotion.

"Captain!"

 _Someone must've found the kid_ , she thought.  The deep snow made movement slow and laborious, but she hastened to reach the location of her first kill before the rest of the men.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Damn it!" Sorrel snarled.  "He's not in there.  He's out here!"

"Are you sure it's him?" the black sergeant asked.

"What are you getting at, Davis?"

"I think it's the girl."

Sorrel studied the man.  He wasn't given to flights of fantasy.  If he saw something in the woman that he had missed…  "Okay, if it's the woman, then the pilot's hit and he's probably the one left in there."

Davis nodded.

"Abrams, you and Stephan ease in there and put the chopper jock out of his misery," Sorrel directed.  "Assume he's armed."  Turning to the remaining pair, he grinned evilly.  "We'll flush out the girl."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom watched the pair head off toward Nick.  She could either follow them, or deal with the three remaining men.

Nick wasn't in a good way…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Ryder heard the approaching men before he caught sight of them.  Dom had left him bundled in a cleft made by a slab of stone that had fallen up against a large boulder.  It was a perfect small cave.  Heavily shrouded in shadow, he knew they would have difficulty spotting him there, so he waited.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The exploding snowmobile covered the gasp as the third man fell into the snow, a fan of red sprayed out in front of him.  Davis turned, ducking into a crouch and firing in Dom's direction.  He didn't have a fix on her and the shot was wide by several feet, but he did at least have her general location targeted.  Sorrel emerged next to him.

Dom knew she didn't have a clear shot, but she fired at the men anyway, forcing them to take cover behind a fallen pine.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Abrams and Stephan moved closer to the burning snowmobile.  The travois leaned against a tree nearby, safe from the flames.  The two soldiers grinned at the destruction and warmed their hands over the flames.

"That makes a hell of a hand warmer, huh?" Abrams asked his companion.

Nick raised the Browning, his hands shaking.  Taking a deep breath, he held it and commanded his hands to steady.  They complied, and he squeezed.

Abrams fell.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Captain!"

Dom watched the corporal running full tilt through the trees toward the two men.  "Captain!  Sergeant Abrams's dead!  Captain!"

It was clear the man was scared beyond reasoning.  _Running drugs doesn't look so glamorous now, does it, kid_ , she silently questioned and fired.  The corporal executed a nearly perfect forward flip before he fell into the snow, steam rising from the blood soaking his chest.

"What the hell is happening here?" Sorrel hissed.

"She's killin' us, that's what's happening, sir," Davis growled sarcastically.

"That bitch is going to die, Davis."

"That woman's going to blow you the hell away, Captain.  Me, I'm cutting my losses, now.  If you got any brains you'll leave."

The black man rose into a crouch and managed three steps before Sorrel raised his revolver and aimed it at the back of the man's head.  "Stop right there, Sergeant," he hissed.  "One more step and I'll kill you myself."

Davis swung back to glare at the officer.  "You fool, she's no normal bitch.  She's trained, man.  That pilot needs help.  If we leave, she'll take him wherever she's goin' and we can get the hell out of here."

"We're going to kill those two–"

"You should've listened to the sergeant, Sorrel."

The captain looked from the black man to the woman, who was holding a silenced Browning on him.

"Stand up," she ordered.

Sorrel responded, but as soon as he was on his feet the revolver was moving, coming up to center on her chest.  She fired and Sorrel was thrown back into the snow, his forehead opened.

Dom looked at Davis.  "You're going to help me get that pilot out of here, or they'll be picking up your frozen corpse along with the rest of these idiots."

"I ain't stupid, lady."

"I didn't think so."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody squinted through the glare of the lowering sun and was lunging out of the cab before Murray could say anything further.  He knew that the bundle on the litter the black Sergeant and the woman was carrying had to be Nick.  Three running strides carried him to them.

"Nick?"

"His fever's climbing and this cold isn't going to help," Dom said.  "I'll drive.  You and Murray take Nick in the back seat, okay?"

The blond finally looked away from his partner.  He nodded.

Murray had already started the engine and was waiting in the back seat.  Dom kept Davis covered while he helped Cody maneuver the injured pilot into the Jimmy.

Once Cody was in, Dom took Davis around and had him sit in the passenger's seat.  Reaching into her jacket pocket, she removed a plastic tie-wrap and bound his hands together.  A second plastic strip held his hands to the support between the wing and passenger window.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody wasn't sure how long it all took, but the woman's driving was flawless and quick.  They arrived in Truckee and headed directly to the town's single high school where the medical evacuation chopper sat on the football field.  Paramedics quickly loaded Nick into the chopper and had already begun two IV's by the time Dom turned Davis over to the local police and the three of them climbed into the craft as well.

A half-hour later they were in Reno, Cody pacing in the Emergency Room lounge.  Dom headed off to use a phone and Murray sat, trying unsuccessfully to warm his hands over a cup of machine-brewed coffee.

Dom and the doctor arrived together.  They way they were talking, the two detectives knew they were old friends.

"Thanks, Mike," Dom said, shaking hands with the white-haired physician.

"My pleasure, Dom.  I have to admit, it's been a while since I was rushed off by jet to a hospital on the other side of the country.  But now that I'm here I think I'll stay a while and enjoy the local attractions."

"Cody, Murray, this is Doctor Mike."

"Doctor," Cody said, shaking the man's hand. "How's Nick?"

"Well, frankly, he's much better than I expected.  Dom did a fine job of keeping the wound draining so the infection wasn't nearly as advanced as it could have been.  We've cleaned that all up now, and we have Captain Ryder on antibiotics.  Exposure was minimal, although he is a little dehydrated, but that's to be expected with the blood loss.  There was a nick in the large intestine, so it was good that you were only giving him water," he said to Dom, then turned his attention back to the detectives.  "All in all, you can thank this young woman for saving the Captain's life.  I would guess four to seven days here in the hospital and he should be ready to be moved back to Los Angeles."

"Thank you, Doctor," Cody said.  "When can we see him?"

"Tomorrow morning, I'd say.  He'll be in recovery for a couple more hours, and them we'll get him into a room, but the sedatives won't wear off until the morning.  Besides, you gentlemen, and lady, all look like you could use a good meal and a better night's sleep."

"Thanks again, Mike," Dom said, giving the man a hug.  "I'll be here long enough to take you out one night."

"I'll look forward to it," he exclaimed, giving her a light kiss on the cheek before he left the three of them alone.

"Thank goodness," Murray breathed.

Cody stuck out his hand and Dom took it.  "I haven't had a chance to say thank you until now, and I want you to know how much we appreciate what you did for Nick."

"I understand – really."  She grinned at the pair.  "Tell you what, why don't you let me treat you to a steak dinner.  And I know the perfect place to stay – the service is guaranteed."

"Government protected, huh?" Murray said, drawing himself in a parody of FBI suave.

"Something like that, Murray," she replied with a grin.

The façade fell away.  "Really?  You mean you're a government agent?  That's boss!"

"Huh, Murray," Cody said, taking hold of the thin man's arm.  "Why don't we let Dom tell us about it over dinner?"

"Oh, sure, Cody, but a real agent!"  He walked over to Dom, and whispered, "You know, we have a friend who's also an agent."

"Oh?" Dom replied in an equally soft tone.

"Yes, her name's Gloria.  She works for the FBI.  Do you know her?"

Dom chanced a quick glance at Cody, who didn't see her, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for the moment.  "No, Murray, I haven't met her, but I was planning to ask you about her."

"Oh, well, let's see, none of this is top-secret…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**4 March 1985: 1930**

 

Nick grinned as Murray explained he and Cody's long vigil in the Jimmy.  _I knew it must have been hard on them, waiting, not knowing…_

He glanced over at Dom, who was curled in a chair near the window, looking like a big black cat.  She was listening to the story with honest enjoyment on her face.

 _Special lady_ , Nick thought, looking back to the computer expert, who was perched at the foot of his hospital bed.  Cody stood nearby, trying to figure out how to open the pitcher so he could pour Nick some more orange juice.

"Sounds like you guys had about as much fun as I did," Nick said when Murray finished.

"Well, it wasn't a week I'd care to repeat," Cody replied, tugging on the mustard yellow plastic.

"At least they're going to let you go home early," Murray said, his eternal optimism too strong to let him dwell on what might have happened.

"I don't call lying here seven days early, Murray," Cody countered, tugging at the spout of the pitcher with a frown.

"What about you, Dom?" Nick asked, smiling at the black-haired beauty.

"I found a nice house in Colfax.  I'm going to try and get my vacation in there."

"I hear the Sheriff was able to round up the people who were involved in the drugs, thanks to Davis' help."

She nodded.  "Yep, now Colfax is just another small mountain community, and I'm going to take advantage of it.  You guys'll have to stop by if you get up here again, and I'm in town."

"Just who do you work for, Dom?" Cody asked, finally giving up on the plastic container and returning it to the bedside tray.  If Nick wanted orange juice he could open the damned thing by himself.

"Let's just say that Uncle and I are close," Dom replied.

Murray walked over and picked up the plastic pitcher.

"Well, all I can say is, you're the nicest looking fed I've ever met," Cody said, watching Murray as he effortlessly manipulated the pitcher open and poured Nick's juice.  "Do you have any plans for tonight?  I thought we could all go out and celebrate Nick's getting out tomorrow."

"Thanks, Boz," Nick said, grinning at Cody's scowl.

"How'd you do that?" Cody asked.

"Do what, Cody?"

"Open that!"

Murray looked at the blond, his face a wrinkle of confusion.

The phone rang and Dom, being the closest, answered.  "Hello…  Yes…  Name it…  No.  No family…  Wait until it's dark.  I'll have the garage door up.  Park inside.  Thirty-one, Pine Shadow Ridge, Colfax…  A favor, you told me.  I'll be waiting."

She sat the phone back in the cradle and smiled up at the three men.

"You have to go?" Nick asked, knowing the answer.

She nodded.  "I'm afraid so.  Looks like I might not get that vacation after all.  You three take care of yourselves.  I'll drop in on you some day."

"Promise?" Cody and Nick asked in unison.

"Yes, I promise.  Of course I might talk to Murray before that, over the computer." She stood and walked over to the thin detective and gave him a hug.  Cody was next.

Nick grunted as he sat forward and wrapped his arms around her.  She had saved his life.  "Be careful, Dom," he said softly.

"I will.  You three have to take that vacation for me.  When you get back to the hotel, check the front desk, I'm sure there'll be something there for you.  It's from your Uncle, so use it!"

The three nodded they would and watched her slip out the door.  The following silence was uncomfortable. 

Cody leaned forward and turned the radio sitting on the night stand on, and a voice immediately filled the room: _love is kind of crazy with a spooky little girl like you…_

The threesome exchanged surprised looks, then burst into laughter.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dom, standing at the bank of elevators, smiled as the laughter rolled out from behind Nick's closed door.  They would be fine.

She sobered.  _I wonder if I can say the same for Ray.  He sounded awful…_


End file.
